Yun Xingze scribbled and erased on the holo-computer memo, finally keeping only the essential parts. The total cost was still steep 100,000 credits felt tight. He sighed and decided to visit the underground black market again.
An hour later, when Boss Chu at the second-hand mecha shop saw Yun Xingze wearing a mask, his smile froze and he almost slammed the door shut.
“Boss, I’m here for parts,” Yun Xingze grabbed his hand to stop the door. “Can you check if you have these?”
Boss Chu’s eyes widened at the list. “My parts aren’t cheap don’t try to fleece me.”
“I won’t bargain much,” Yun Xingze said sincerely. Boss Chu hesitated, then gave in to those honest eyes.
He pointed at “M‑23 specification lightsaber” on the list. “That’s the one I sold you last time?”
Yun Xingze nodded. “Another lightsaber could work.”
Boss Chu stroked his chin. “I might have them around 50,000 credits.”
Yun Xingze looked thoughtful, and Boss Chu felt a chill on his bald head.
“A flat rate?” Yun Xingze said calmly. “Five thousand.”
“Five thousand?! Then don’t bother just rob me!” Boss Chu blurted out.
Yun Xingze gently appealed, “Boss, I have a contest soon please help me.”
Boss Chu rolled his eyes, certain he’d be cheated again. Then he asked, “Color or material matter to you?”
“New and usable that’s enough.” Yun Xingze said.
Boss Chu patted his chest. “Got it.” He dug out unsold parts new but odd-looking and showed them. Yun Xingze stared for five seconds.
“Are defects in appearance?” Yun asked. “These aren’t from toy models?”
“Of course not!” Boss Chu assured. “They work well. Just paint them later.”
“Lightsabers get painted?” Yun blinked aren’t they plasma from energy stones?
Boss Chu laughed. “See this pink? Omegas love it.”
Yun asked, “Why does this booster look like a broken chicken wing?”
“Break a chicken wing? It’s the trendy ‘winged angel’ style,” Boss Chu said irritably. “And it’s on the back who’ll see?”
Yun felt nothing inside he didn’t like the looks but his budget was tight. He checked each part: weird shapes but fully functional.
After careful thought, Yun bought them all, bargaining the whole box to 50,000 credits. Boss Chu grumbled but sold no one else bought them.
Then Yun spent 40,000 credits more on a turbocharger and a new control module. With only 10,000 credits left, he skipped paint camouflage was pointless in a PK arena where the only target was the opponent.
Leaving the market with a box of parts and two core units, he returned to school and found an empty customization workshop. These rooms usually for mech theory or repair students were new to Yun, a mech-combat major.
He drew blueprints and quickly began disassembly. News spread people gathered, first curious, then shocked.
Yun replaced bent finger shafts with stronger metal joints and flexible links. He fitted color-coded finger parts. Installing the lightsabers was tricky length, draw speed, and plasma safety all needed precision. He chose Barbie-pink sabers.
He replaced a weak booster with the “broken-wing” style booster. Power now improved.
By now, the crowd saw the changes:
“My god, what did he do to that mech?”
“That color… is this a joke?”
“Maybe he’s trying to distract opponents?”
Inside, he installed the turbo system and control module. This took more effort, but he knew the mechanics well. In about thirty minutes, the upgrades were successful.
Yun stepped out, clapped his hands, and smiled at his creation.
Lu Ranxu arrived and gasped: “Wow, that’s… colorful.” Yun looked at him.
Lu hurriedly added, “…refreshingly unique.”
Bright mixed colors, yellow springs on tendon parts a visual punch.
“It has presence,” he said grudgingly.
Yun folded the mech, the once-dark cube now multicolored, vibrant.
He took it to the training field and tested it. Everything worked — agility, combat strength, power, speed all visibly improved. The dual pink-and-blue sabers looked cute, but when they sliced through the air, Lu felt a cold murderous aura.
He admitted: “It’s ugly, but a huge success. Upgrading mech parts takes precision one wrong move and it’s ruined. You did major overhaul in one go.”
Yun smiled. “It’s ugly the original owner would be mad.”
“Doubt it,” Lu patted his shoulder. “Now focus on the fight.”
Soon, the solo PK match groups were announced. The format: points system — 10 wins give 10 points each; losses give zero. After ten matches, top‑9 join the school team, 10th is substitute.
Yun, not one for competition, liked observing others and driving mechs. But when he learned that a perfect ten-win streak awards 500,000 credits, he was hooked.
Half a million credits buy many “winged angel boosters.” He vowed not to lose.
Before competition, the school re-rated all students. Yun’s stamina and mental strength had increased to grade B, so his driving skill was also upgraded to B.
His first opponent was a second-year Beta using a lightsaber mech the same grade.
The arena had four fields running simultaneously, each 30 minutes per match. If unresolved, damage decides the winner. Rounds took two days, then a rest day.
His match was first day, afternoon. The stands were full; many Omegas screamed excitedly:
“Dachuan is so handsome—”
“Luo Wenchuan, go!”
“Ah! Luo just looked at me!”
Yun was momentarily stunned by the cheering crowd. Across the arena, Luo Wenchuan prepared in the warm-up zone.
A huge banner in the crowd read: “Star Sea’s Handsome Luo Wenchuan, Empire’s Sword!” Yun’s eyes widened fan culture had reached extremes.
Luo stayed calm, expression unreadable, while his opponent looked nervous.
Yun entered the prep area. Whispers floated:
“Isn’t that the first-year Omega who won?”
“Yep. He looks pale and skinny he’d cry from one punch.”
“Could be strategy that got him first. Omegas in competition last year Su Zinan did okay, but another this year?”
They sounded childish to Yun, and he felt amused.
Clack — a crisp sound cut through the room. Everyone went silent. Yun turned and froze.
Luo Wenchuan, eyes closed and wearing the snug uniform, lay legs crossed. His black mech cube glimmered coldly by his feet. Moments later, he opened his eyes and picked it up casually.
The murmurs stopped. The silence was deep.
Yun stared at him, then headed backstage to prepare.
A minute later, the other second-years whispered:
“Luo helped that Omega just now?”
“No way didn’t you hear he’s omegatophobic?”
“That SS‑grade mech… terrifying.”
Yun Xingze’s match began. Luo Wenchuan, his rarely attentive self, had straightened and watched the entrance. His eyes were calm, unreadable. No one knew if he cared deeply or was simply alert.
They shook hands and released their mechs. The Beta’s silver lightsaber mech looked huge in the empty field. Yun deployed his — the brightly colored one and the arena fell silent.
Even Luo Wenchuan’s ice-face cracked at the sight of Yun’s mech transformation.
